


Sap

by aitomation



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: !!!, M/M, also they r aged up a bit??, cuz Lord knows we need more content, eDIT:, evan is mentioned once, first work!! ive never posted anything ive written before, idk how to tag!! pls enjoy anyway, its not relevant tho, just my bracelet headcanon lmao, kleinphy, like a couple yrs i mention college but idk how much exactly, mental illness you know the drill, their cat is named mephistopheFLEAS bc connor thinks hes funny, there is one (1) swear word, this has the general deh content warnings: mentions of suicide/suicidal ideation, this is just a domestic oneshot for, uh theres some mention of self harm n smoking, vegan connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 06:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12811284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aitomation/pseuds/aitomation
Summary: The boys have a sleepy morning.Just a Soft kleinphy oneshot.





	Sap

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time posting fic!! pls enjoy  
> im writing a couple multi chapter kleinphy fics but i wanted to write a short soft one cuz i tend to overthink fics n i just want them to b happy yknow?? so here it is

 

 

* * *

     Soft sunlight streamed through the cheap curtains and slipped across Connor’s face. He stirred lightly, rolling over. He tried very hard to stay asleep, wanting to continue being unconscious just a little bit longer, thank you very much. Ultimately, though, he groaned quietly and let his eyes crack open. For a minute he just lay there, staring at the wall in front of him. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ugly popcorn ceiling he hated but would never get around to changing. Connor let himself breath. He took in his surroundings- felt his favorite pillow’s weird, lumpy mass under his head; noticed the light glancing off scattered books and papers on the desk awkwardly shoved into the corner; smelled the cheap off-brand aerosol he applied generously (and almost constantly) to mask the cat-funk every time Mephistophefleas took a shit. He felt content; alive. Just breathing, for a moment. He was happy.

  
     After a while, Connor’s bladder decided it was time to start the day. Huffing a little, he wriggled out of the many blankets and too big sheets to go relieve himself; then wandered down the short hallway to the tiny kitchenette. He popped open the mini fridge and just stared at its contents, not really processing what he saw. He wasn’t awake enough to understand food yet. But he stood in front of the open door so long that his stomach felt the need to remind him it was there and very hungry, please if we don’t eat right now you’ll starve, so he grabbed a nondairy yogurt cup and shut the door. After a minute rummaging through the silverware, he triumphantly raised a plastic spoon, wrapped in thin plastic- an extra from some food delivery way back when. He hopped up on the counter to enjoy his tiny breakfast. He took small bites, zoning out as he stared at the cabinets in front of him. The morning’s atmosphere felt thick, like molasses, but not unpleasant. It wasn’t the same weight that held him down on his bad days. It was a sentient warmth, enveloping him like a hug instead of crushing him to death.

  
     When he finished the cup, he threw it out and wandered back to the bedroom. Connor decided that going back to bed would be nice- today could be a lazy day to just exist. He didn’t have anything to do anyway, as his college had just started a semester break, and he didn’t want to do anything that might destroy the calm of the morning. It wasn’t often that Connor felt like this- okay with just being- so when that feeling crept up on him he tried to preserve it for as long as possible. He dragged himself back into bed, rolling himself into the many covers. He turned to admire Jared, sleeping peacefully on his side of the bed, a tiny bit of drool pooling on the pillow beside him. He knew Jared was a heavy sleeper, but always found himself surprised when the movement of him rolling around and getting in and out of bed didn’t disturb his boyfriend in the slightest.

  
     Connor admired Jared with the same silent awe he had observed everything else with that morning. From his sleep-tousled hair, to his worn and baggy night clothes, and his loosely closed fist lying on the bed closest to Connor, he was the pinnacle representation of their domesticity. Connor could feel the warmth and contentment rolling off him, like a spiritual representation of their nosey cat rubbing against Connor’s face. That warmth spread in Connor’s chest, and he couldn’t help the dopey smile that wormed its way onto his face. He never expected to be so happy in his life. In high school, he had been convinced he was incapable of preserving any amount of happiness in his life. As time went on, he let himself believe that it was impossible for him to experience it at all. He never knew what to expect from his future, because for so long he didn’t expect to have one.

  
      Working his way out of that time in his life was hard. It took a lot of work, not just on his part; and there were days still where he felt like he was back there- a scared little kid being torn apart by things he doesn’t understand. There are days that he remembers how hopeless he felt, how lost and desperate. A phantom ache rises in his chest, trying to claw its way out. He remembers the need to feel in control. All the stupid attempts to pretend control over his life- cutting his hair, cutting his skin, smoking- and the attempts to end it when he found he was just as powerless as he thought he was. He had wanted to die, because he couldn’t make things better on his own. On his bad days, he doesn’t just remember. The hopelessness and pain, and worst of all apathy, press down on him. They threaten to choke out all energy, and destroy the things he’s built. It was different now, though, because Connor wanted to live. He had a reason to wake up on the days where he wants nothing more than to dissolve into the mattress. He could see the value his life held, sometimes. But even when he couldn’t, he wanted to live. If only to see Jared shriek at Mephistophefleas when she tried to eat one of his old cassette tapes.

  
      Connor closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sidled up next to Jared. He draped an arm over Jared’s waist, pulling him closer. His stupid grin grew impossibly wider at Jared’s quiet, affronted mumble, and he buried it his Jared’s messy hair. Connor fiddled gently with the ancient friendship bracelet Jared wore on his left wrist- a gift from Evan when they were little. Jared scrunched up his face for a moment, before blinking blearily up at Connor. Any annoyance on his face disappeared completely, and was replaced immediately with a small, genuine smile. Sleepy Jared was Connor’s favorite Jared. The haze of sleep, whether falling into or crawling out of it, made Jared impossibly sweet and honest. Things he would normally keep hidden, close to his heart, would come out in his unguarded facial expressions and body language. Jared raised his hand to Connor’s cheek and brushed a strand of hair behind his ear.

  
      “Good morning,” he mumbled quietly. Connor’s heart swelled at Jared’s sleepy rasp. He smiled and whispered a “morning” back, before re-burying his face in Jared’s hair. They laid there for a time, just cuddling, enjoying each others’ warm presence. Eventually, Jared leaned away just enough to give Connor a tiny peck on the lips.

  
       “For a sappy morning,” he said quietly.


End file.
